Blind
by wbss21
Summary: Thor AU: After a terrible car accident, Thor's kid brother Loki ends up blind and deaf, and Thor must deal with the consequences, and the new found responsibility of having to care for a child infinitely more vulnerable and helpless within the world than already he had been.
1. Chapter 1

**Blind**

**Chapter 1:**

This isn't happening.

This can't be…

This isn't _real_.

_This isn't real_.

Oh God, God please.

It is all which passes through Thor's mind as he runs, staggering through the sliding glass doors of emergency, following fast on the heels of an ambulance team, pushing a gurney, his little brother strapped, unresponsive, to it, an oxygen mask pressed fiercely over his nose and mouth.

Behind him, Thor barely registers the sound of his friends running at his back, or the yelled out, efficient orders of the medical team, calling for assistance.

Doctors and nurses come streaming from unseen places, surrounding the gurney until Thor can no longer see Loki.

Can no longer see the torn apart, blood smeared mess of his eyes.

It had been an _accident_.

_An accident_!

Thor at the wheel. There'd been no reason, no possibility for this. He'd had his license a year. A year! And he was a _good _driver! A safe, responsible driver! It was why Mother and Father let him take Loki out with him. Why they felt okay with it.

There are only flashes he remembers now.

Sif in the passenger side. Volstagg, Fandral and Hogun crammed into the back, with Loki nearly crushed against the back door at the seats end.

They'd been… they'd been teasing Loki. They always did that. They always teased his brother. Laughing about… about the way he wasn't really any good at sports. About how he chose instead to sit inside all day and draw, or… or read.

Loki had… Loki had started getting upset. He'd… oh, he was only ten years old. What did they expect?

He'd started crying, and Thor had told his friends to knock it off. Only they hadn't. They'd kept laughing and teasing, and Loki had really started crying, and Thor had gotten angry. He'd gotten angry and turned around to yell at Fandral and Volstagg, to tell them to fucking quit it.

He'd taken his eyes off the road for a few seconds, that was it.

It was an _accident_.

And then there'd been nothing but chaos. Violence and noise and the feeling of utter, terrifying helplessness.

Thor was a big kid. He was tall and strong. The star cornerback of his high school football team.

He'd never known the feeling of being tossed around like he was nothing.

He didn't know what that was like at all. Until that moment. Until that car had come out of nowhere and… and…

When the insanity had finally stopped, and he'd opened his eyes, he'd found himself in Sif's lap, somehow, Sif's eyes fluttering as she had come to beneath him.

Time had seemed to drag forever then, his mind still lost and confused, still unsure of what the hell had happened.

And then he'd heard Fandral's voice, trembling and broken up, like he was crying.

"Oh God… oh God…"

And he'd twisted around, his eyes finding the back seat, finding all of his friends, dazed but more or less unharmed looking.

His eyes shifting to Loki. To where Loki was.

And he hadn't been able to understand what he was seeing at first.

It hadn't registered right away in his mind.

Only realized after seconds stretching into eternity that there was blood. So much blood. And that Loki wasn't conscious, like the rest of them. That he was hanging there, limp against his seat belt, head bowed so far his chin was touching his chest.

And there was _blood_, and shattered glass everywhere, and as the seconds wore on, it dawned on Thor that it was that one side of the car which was crushed in.

That the impact had hit right where Loki had been sitting, and oh God, oh God, he'd panicked, and started crying and screaming, struggling desperately to turn over, crawling off of Sif and trying to reach back there, to reach his baby brother.

In the end, it had been Sif who'd been level headed enough to pull out her cell phone and dial 911, who'd gotten an ambulance to them in time.

The rest of them had been checked over by one of the team even as the others had cut Loki out of his seatbelt and gotten him out of the car.

Again, it had taken Sif to reason with Thor not to pull his brother out on his own, arguing that he might cause more damage by moving him, but Thor hadn't been able to keep himself from breaking free of the medic and running to Loki's side as they'd begun loading him into the back of the ambulance.

They'd let him ride along to the hospital, along with Sif and the others.

And _Christ_, the worst any of the rest of them had had was a few scrapes and bruises, including the drunk piece of shit bastard who'd crashed into them.

And here Thor is now, watching his brother being carted into the intensive care unit, and he's being pushed back from following by nurses and guards, even as he screams and pleads with them to let him go, to let him be with Loki, because that's his brother, that's his little, baby brother, and fuck, FUCK, he's only ten years old and he's going to be so scared when he wakes up and please, please Jesus Christ…

In the end, Volstagg and Hogun and Fandral are needed to pull Thor back all the way, telling him it'll be okay, that Loki's in good hands and everything's going to be alright.

But that's bullshit. They're lying.

Loki isn't alright. He's alone in there, fighting for his life, and he's only ten years old, and this is Thor's fucking fault and why the hell did he take his eyes off the road?!

He wipes a broad hand back against his eyes, trying to clear the tears from them, scowling as he turns from his friends, only to run into Sif.

She reaches out a hand, placing it gently against his shoulder.

"Thor…" she says quietly, looking up at him with sympathetic eyes, and he wants to tell her to fuck off, but that isn't fair. Without her, Loki might not even have gotten the care he needed on time. "I think maybe you need to call your parents." She says, and Thor's heart suddenly drops, and if possible, he feels even sicker than he did before.

/

**AN: I know, I know, another new story, but the inspiration for this one just hit me suddenly and I thought I'd give it a crack. My usual, tragic fare. Let me know what you guys think thus far, and whether you think I should continue or not. And thanks so much to everyone who gave it a try!**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: So, I don't know anything about anything medical, lol. I'm basically just winging it here, and I hope it comes across as semi-believable at least. Hope you enjoy and thanks to all my readers and reviewers!**

**Chapter 2:**

It's Mother who picks up on the third ring, and Thor can tell from her voice that she's smiling.

He feels like he's going to vomit.

"Thor, sweetheart." She says brightly. "How is everything? Are you and your brother having fun at the restaurant?"

He swallows, thick and dry and useless.

"Mom…" he starts, and he can't keep the waver out of his voice, and Frigga, smart and fast as she is, she knows right away something's wrong.

Her voice is terrifyingly calm with her next words.

"… Thor, baby, can you put your brother on the phone? Can he talk?"

Thor can't repress the sudden, vicious sob which tears from his throat.

"Mom…" he cries, and he doesn't understand how she's keeping her composure, even as he can hear the very real horror seeping into her tone.

"What's happened?" She asks. "What's happened to Loki?"

And he tells her.

He tells her everything, and he can hear Dad in the background now, his voice raised and demanding, yelling at Frigga to tell him what's going on.

"We're coming." She tells him, still eerily together. "We'll be there as quickly as we can."

And then the line goes dead, and Thor slumps, broken and hopeless and so, so scared, into one of the chairs, lining the stark, white, awful walls outside ICU.

/

"Thor." Sif hits him in the shoulder, and his head snaps up from where he'd been holding it in his hands, glancing at her.

She nods her head down the hallway, and when he turns his eyes there, he sees his parents walking brisk and hurried towards them.

Immediately he stands, fighting down the churning terror working restlessly in his gut, and begins for them.

He doesn't get a single word out before his Father is shoving past Mom and grabbing hold of him by the front of his shirt, spinning him around so fast it makes him dizzy and shoving him hard into the wall.

"What the _hell _have you done!?" Odin snarls inches from his face, voice raised with absolute fury, and Thor can't help the way he cowers away, turning his face aside, quacking in the face of his Father's rage.

He may be bigger and taller than Odin now, but he still feels like a little boy in comparison.

"I… I-I…" he begins to stammer, not even beginning to know where to start. How to explain.

"Odin, stop it." And suddenly Mom is there, placing a hand delicately on Odin's shoulder, pulling him back.

He lets Thor go with a shove, stepping back, eyes still boring into him with unchecked anger.

For a moment, Thor can do nothing but stare helplessly back, eyes shifting between the two of them, mouth working and failing to give any words of explanation. Of excuse.

There is none, he knows. He knows.

He's the older brother, he's…

Oh, God, he was supposed to _protect_ Loki. He was…

He can do nothing to stop the tears which sting and gather, sudden and thick in his eyes, before spilling down his cheeks, and he glances away, shame and self-loathing drowning him with its unrelenting weight.

Somewhere off to the side, he hears Sif, speaking quietly to his parents, telling them that she and the others are going to be going home now. That their own parents are probably starting to get worried, and Thor wants to thank them, wants to tell them how grateful he is that they stayed with him until Odin and Frigga could arrive. But he can't find his voice now. He can't say anything.

He hears Mom thank her for him, and the shuffling sound of the others moving past. Feels a few pats on the shoulder and empty words of reassurance.

And then they're gone, and it's just Thor and Mom and Father, and some of the hospital staff occasionally walking by.

Mom shifts him back into a seat, and then she's kneeling in front of him, grasping his hands tightly, and he can feel her own hands trembling, and when he looks up at her, he sees for the first time how her own eyes are red and wet with tears. Looks up and sees that all the rage seems to have sapped loose from Father, and he stands there now, slumped, his one good eye glinting too bright under the florescent lights of the place, even as he paces restlessly.

"Thor, baby, listen." Mom is talking, and he looks back to her, dazed. "Have they told you anything? Has anyone spoken to you?"

Numbly, he shakes his head, bringing a hand to his face and wiping at his eyes.

"N-no." He answers, voice thin and too high. "No, no one's… no one's told me what's going on. They…" He swallows, thick and painful. "they've had him in there the last 45 minutes. No one's come to tell me anything."

Frigga breathes out, shaking and frail, even as she nods, and the tears in her eyes at last escape, sliding slow down her face.

"Okay." She says. "Alright. It… It's going to be alright. Thor, I promise you it's going to be alright."

But he can tell just listening to her that she doesn't know. That she's struggling to believe it herself.

"Mom, it… th-the… the car just came out of nowhere. I… I took my eyes off the r-road for one second. That was it, and it just… the other guy was drunk, they said. Th… they said he would be going to jail. Mom, I'm… I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Thor, honey, no." She squeezes his still held hands. "No, it's alright. It's going to be alright."

"Wh… what… what if he dies though?" Thor can't help but choke out, his voice coming out a strained gasp. "What if Loki dies?"

"He's not going to." Odin finally speaks, stopping in his relentless pacing, voice hard and unyielding. "He is my _son_. He's strong. He isn't going to die."

Frigga glances away, and Thor looks desperately up at his Father, praying to whatever power there might be that he's right.

Only dread coils tight and merciless in his stomach, and he can't stop thinking something's going to go wrong. Something awful, and there's nothing he can do to stop it. Nothing he can do to keep his little brother safe.

"We just have to wait." Frigga says, and Thor knows she's clinging to practicality to keep herself composed. "There's nothing we can do until then. He… Loki's getting the best help he can right now. We just have to wait."

Neither he nor Father can say anything to that. Thor only nods dumbly, struggling desperately, what feels fruitlessly against his own, crushing despair.

/

Hours go by.

Every so often, a nurse emerges from ICU, walking briskly and with purpose, and each time, Thor and his parent's jump to their feet, anticipating and nerve wrackingly anxious.

Each time the nurses walk past, hardly even glancing their way, until about the fifth time or so it happens, Odin loses his ability to stay silent and grabs the girls arm in what probably amounts to too forceful a grip, demanding to know what's going on.

The nurse only shrugs free, unflustered, and tells him calmly that he's going to have to wait for a Dr. Vincent to inform them of the situation, and that it will likely be several hours more.

And so, again, they can only wait.

Two hours go by. Three. Four.

Fifteen minutes past two in the morning, at last, a man emerges from the double swinging doors who they have not yet seen , wearing hospital scrubs and removing a facial mask.

It is immediately apparent the man is a physician, and before he's even pulled the mask fully free, Odin and Frigga are on their feet, Thor following more slowly behind, sickening fear coiling in the pit of his stomach.

"Mister and Missus Odinson?" The man begins, meeting Odin and Frigga halfway as they pace towards him.

No one bothers to correct him on the misuse of their sir name. To tell him they're from Norway, where it is customary for the children to take as their last name the first name of their Father.

None of that matters.

Odin steps up, and wastes no time with idle chatter.

"How is my son?" He asks bluntly, sharply, and Thor doesn't miss the way Mom's hand wraps tight and vaguely trembling to her husband's forearm, even as he lingers behind them, failing to find the courage to ask after his brother himself.

The man, the doctor, sighs softly, glancing away, and for a moment, Thor feels like he may throw up, his knees going abruptly weak.

It is all he can do to keep standing.

And then suddenly the doctor speaks.

"Your son is going to live." He says, confidence in his tone, and that alone is enough to nearly make Thor collapse in a heap, such terrifying relief flooding through him with such violence.

He hears Mom sob out in her own relief, and sees Odin's rigid shoulders relax their hold slightly, the only visible sign of the tension and fear he himself had been feeling.

Frigga buries her face to his shoulder, and Thor wonders if she's crying.

Only Odin is still staring at the doctor, hard, and Thor knows, he can feel from the way Father looks at the man that he sees there's something more. Something the doctor hasn't told them, and like a shot to the gut, the anxiety returns tenfold.

"But…" Odin bites out, finally voicing the awful question.

The doctor hesitates only momentarily.

"But," he says, and Thor feels like that split second before he continues stretches an eternity. "I'm afraid your son suffered extensive damage to both eyes retinas by way of severe, multiple lacerations. Likely from the glass exploding outward against his face, the force of the impact driving the broken shards. We fortunately were able to save his eyes, but… I'm so sorry, your son from this point forward is going to be completely blind."

Wait…

What?

For a moment, Thor doesn't understand.

For a moment, he isn't sure if he's heard the words coming from the man's mouth correctly at all.

Somewhere, he hears Frigga gasp. Sees Odin's frame resume its ramrod rigidity.

But no… no…

None of that makes sense.

None of that…

Nothing the man's just said makes _any sense at all_!

Before he even realizes he's moved, Thor's pushing through his parents to stand before the doctor, his voice coming out frantic and blubbering.

"B-but… but y-you… you just said… you sa… said you were… you were able to save his eyes!" He stammers desperately. "You said you _saved his eyes_! Wh-what… what do you _mean_ he's blind!? How can he be blind if you saved his eyes!?"

The doctor looks sympathetically at him, and then to his Mother and Father, and Thor irrationally wants to punch him in his stupid fucking face.

"It means we were able to salvage enough to avoid having to remove his eyes completely and replace them with false ones made of glass." He says, so bluntly and clinically, and Thor doesn't understand. He doesn't _understand_! How can… how can this man just… just say something like that?! How can he just say it like it's _nothing_? Like… Like it doesn't even matter?!

Behind him, he hears Mom crying now, hears her sobbing freely, her composure finally cracked. Hears her saying "Oh God, oh God…" over and over again, while Father remains deathly silent.

Thor can only stare dumbly, speechless, and the doctor, the fucking doctor, he starts talking again, and Thor isn't hearing this. He isn't _hearing this_!

"There's something more." He begins, and here he seems more apprehensive than before, and what the fuck… what the fuck could be worse than this? What's he going to say?!

The doctor seems to brace himself, sucking in a sharp breath, letting it go slowly, licking his lips.

"Your son also suffered some pretty severe blunt force trauma to the head. Again, we believe upon impact of the other vehicle, his head likely made impact with the shattering window. We've got him in an induced coma right now, just to monitor his brain and make certain there's no swelling or internal bleeding."

"Oh God…" Frigga sobs out once more.

The doctor continues on as if she hasn't even spoken.

"However, he's… your son is very young. As you may know, very young children who are still developing, as your son is, don't possess the same level of sturdiness to their bone structure as would an adult and… well, the impact was apparently strong enough that both your son's ear drums were shattered by the force."

He pauses, and Thor can feel bile rising up in his throat.

He's going to be sick.

"We won't know for certain until we take him out of the coma, but…" again the doctor licks his lips. "there's a very high probability that your son is going to experience 90% or more hearing loss in both ears."

Whatever happens after that, Thor has no idea.

Because suddenly the bile isn't stopping for anything, and he's turning, and running, barely making it to a trash bin before he's bent over it double and hurling his insides out.

He doesn't know…

Everything's fuzzy around the edges. He feels dizzy, like he's going to pass out.

And when finally his vision begins to clear and the buzzing in his brain begins to dim, he blinks, and finds himself on his knees on the floor. Feels the trembling arms of Mom, wrapped tight around him, she on her knees at his side and crying uncontrollably against his shoulder.

Lifts his head and see Father, slumped in a chair, head held in his hands, shaking it back and forth like he can't believe… he just can't believe.

And Thor thinks this must be a dream.

Some horrible, awful dream, and any minute now he's going to wake up, and it'll all be okay. Loki will be there, having crawled into his bed during the night because of his own terrible nightmares, seeking his older brother's protection from the scary monsters, curled against his side, safe and warm and soft.

And then his little brother will blink awake, and gaze up at him with his beautiful green eyes, so bright and full of an intelligence uncommon for any child that age. And he'll smile at him, and Thor will smile back, and everything will be okay.

Won't it?

Won't everything be okay?

Please, please let… let everything be okay…


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

Two weeks.

It's been two weeks they've kept Loki in this induced coma.

To make sure his injuries are fully healed before they take him out of it and he has to face the burden of his new handicaps, the doctor had explained.

It had made Thor seethe inside, how calmly and almost… _casually_ he'd said all this. Like it was just the way it was, and there was no point throwing a fuss about it because there was nothing anyone could do.

But that wasn't _right_.

It wasn't right. Loki was just a little boy. He was just…

God, he hadn't even begun his life yet and he would be… he would be deprived of so much already. He would have so much taken away.

Tears run thick and ceaseless down Thor's face as the thoughts run through his mind once more.

It feels like he's been crying nonstop these last two weeks.

He can't be alright with this.

He doesn't know how to be alright.

He sits there now, holding onto Loki's limp, unresponsive hand, watching his little brother through blurred vision.

They've got him hooked up to so many wires and machines, a respiration mask perpetually covering his nose and mouth, fogging and clearing with each inhale and exhale, and he looks so small in that giant hospital bed. He looks so frail and small.

The cuts and bruises along his face, around the shells of his ears, and the swelling are finally starting to fade. Coming out as only faint, white lines in most places, paler even than his already pale skin.

His eyes are covered with thick gauze, held in place by more wrapping around his head.

In the first several days, the white material of the stuff had needed to be changed every few hours, from the blood soaking through, and Thor hadn't been able to take it. He'd had to leave the room whenever that happened, and Mother would go with him.

Only Father would stay. Maybe because he himself had lost an eye when he was a young man. He knew what it looked like.

They'd been taking turns, alternating between spending the days and nights with Loki. Thor had missed huge chunks of school. The teachers and Principle knew the situation, and had been sending his lessons and school work to him, but he could hardly concentrate at all on it, and he knew his grades were going to drop.

He seriously couldn't give a shit less.

The doctor and nurses here had been going over with their parents what they could do to help Loki and themselves adjust to his new handicaps, giving them what seemed an endless stream of brouchers and pampflits and recommending several rehab centers.

They've warned over and over that it's going to be "difficult". That's the word they like to use. That it's going to take a long time for any of them to get used to it.

Thor doesn't think it's even possible.

He's so afraid of what will happen when Loki wakes up and he…

Today.

It's supposed to be today, the doctor said.

When they take Loki out of the coma.

It's supposed to be this afternoon, which is in just a little while now.

Right now Mom and Father are getting some coffee, and Thor doesn't know how he's going to handle this.

The doctor says Loki's probably going to be terrified at first, and it's up to them to soothe and comfort him.

How the hell are they supposed to do that when Loki won't be able to _see_ or _hear_!? How are they supposed to even let him know they're _there_!?

The doctor said something about touch. About how Loki was going to have to learn to navigate the world through feel alone. He said there were specialists as some of these rehab clinics that would help them with that.

But that seems so impossible to Thor. He doesn't understand how anyone could. Brilliant as his little brother is even, Thor doesn't understand how that's supposed to work.

His grip on Loki's hand tightens, and without thinking, he brings his other up, brushing his fingers delicately across his brother's forehead, pushing his hair back.

Oh, his brother. His little brother.

Scared as Thor is, he knows it will be nothing compared to what Loki feels, and maybe that… maybe that will be enough to give him the courage to help his brother.

He hopes.

He can only pray.

/

When finally the time comes, they're all there. Mom and Father, the doctor and a group of three nurses who've been helping to care for Loki since he was admitted.

Thor had spoken to Sif earlier that day, and she'd offered to come by, but Thor had told her not to. That this was going to be difficult and overwhelming enough. That he wasn't even sure they'd allow her in.

He was going to have to take the time to thank Sif, at some point.

She's been such a huge support, and he doesn't know if he'd have even made it through these last few weeks without her.

He's sitting now at the bed's side, Mom beside him, grasping Loki's hand in both her own. Father's standing at the foot of the bed, arms crossed and stiff shouldered, looking down at his youngest son with a blank, unreadable expression.

The nurses are off to the side, standing ready should their assistance be needed, and the doctor is on the opposing side of Loki, explaining to them one last time what they might expect.

There's a sickening anticipation curling in the pit of Thor's stomach, and he feels jittery, his leg bouncing nervously, hands fidgeting, clasping and unclasping in his lap.

Somewhere in his mind, he knows, no matter how well the doctor tries to prepare them, there's no preparing for this. There's no being ready.

Any delusion he might have held of being strong in this moment fades quickly when finally the process begins.

It is slow, gradual, only when Loki at last begins to show signs of regained consciousness does Thor feel his tension consume him, his frame stiffening, fingers curling white knuckled into the material of his pants, unaware that he is holding his own breath until his vision swims and he exhales sharply.

All that comes at first is shallow and lethargic twitches through his brother's small hands, and an increased pattern in his breathing.

Thor can see Mom squeezing Loki's hand almost painfully tight, and he thinks briefly about telling her to be careful, but then Loki's lids begin to flutter, and the dread he'd been anticipating takes sharp hold of him.

He doesn't… he doesn't know if he can do this. He doesn't think…

Suddenly he wants to run from the room. He doesn't want to face this, doesn't want to…

They'd removed the gauze and bandaging from his eyes, and while there'd still be some deep bruising, and his eyes had seemed more deeply sunken than normal, you would never have guessed just from looking at them that there was anything in particular wrong.

When his lids begin to lift though, and Thor and Mom and Father see his eyes for the first time, Thor feels as though his heart may give in to grief.

There color is gone.

It's just… _gone_.

Where once vibrant green shown from his irises, the brightest, most vivid shade Thor had ever seen on anyone, there was now only a filmed over and dull grey, sightless and staring at nothing as at last Loki's lids came fully open.

For long seconds seeming to stretch forever, he only lay there, unmoving and silent.

And then Mother speaks, calling out his name.

"Loki." She breaths, and at that there comes no reply.

Thor glances away, the abrupt reminder that Loki cannot hear them either nearly stealing his breath from his lungs.

Only Mom seems like the knowledge has escaped her as again she calls out her youngest boy's name, more desperate this time, her hands squeezing once more over his.

"He can't… he can't hear you Mom." Thor says, and his voice is strained, choked and thin. He can already feel the tears stinging in his eyes.

"But he… he must. He has to." She sobs in return, loosing her grip and reaching over, placing her hand against Loki's forehead.

Whatever it is, at the contact, Loki suddenly starts, as though he's just now gaining awareness, eyes blinking rapidly, sucking in a breath so fast, it sounds as a gasp.

And then… oh God, he's thrashing, turning violently, frantic side to side, hands reaching up and grasping his face, running over his eyes again and again.

"I c-ca-can't…" he stammers, voice thick with tears, and they gather instantly in his sightless eyes, escaping and slipping down his temples, into his hair. "I c-can't sss-see! I can't s-see!" He cries, his high voice breaking and wavering badly, and God, God, his words are slurred and inarticulate. So vastly unlike Thor's little brother, always so unnaturally well spoken for a child his age.

He gasps again, eyes widening.

"I can't…!"

And suddenly he rockets up, reaching out blindly and clumsily ahead of him, little hands closing and opening at the air as if searching for something to grab on to.

He's trembling, vicious tremors working through his tiny frame, and then his hands are grasping at his hair, tearing at it painfully, tears thicker and falling more rapidly.

"Mmm-Mommy!" He cries, terrified and confused. "Mommy!"

"Oh God, my baby." Frigga sobs out, and without hesitation, she falls forward, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him to her chest.

Odin stands, one hand covering his mouth, an expression of plain agony upon his usually stoic features, and Thor finds himself openly sobbing, his shoulders heaving as he tries uselessly to suppress them.

Only whatever comfort Mom had hoped to give her child by embracing him, it has instead some devastating effect, as Loki falls into a wretched panic, screaming out at the contact and struggling with pitiful, horrified strength against her hold.

He doesn't know where he is, Thor realizes. He doesn't know how he got here, who it is in the room with him. He… he can't even hear his own voice as he cries out again and again, desperate for some kind of help.

It's like those awful, terrifying nightmares he sometimes gets, where he can't move and he calls out for someone, anyone, only his voice makes no sound and no one can hear him.

Only… only it isn't a dream. It isn't a nightmare for Loki.

It's real. Sickeningly real.

Frigga is struggling to hold on to him, trying fruitlessly to calm and assure him, and Odin turns sharply towards the doctor.

"How do we communicate to him!?" He roars, loudly, verging it sounds on panic.

There is chaos, then.

Somewhere on the periphery of his consciousness, Thor hears the doctor and nurses trying urgently to explain something to his parents, hears his parents yelling back, despairing and angry.

Over it all, he hears his little brother, sobbing uncontrollably in horrible fear.

Over it all, he sees Loki, fighting still because he doesn't know what to do, doesn't know who Mom is, doesn't know who any of them are, that anyone else is even there. Doesn't understand why he can't see or hear.

His struggling is growing weaker as he cries desperately, and Thor can't stand it.

He can't stand it, can't bear to see his brother in so much pain.

He doesn't think anymore.

Only surges to his feet and falls forward, not caring as he grabs hold of Mom and pulls her away from Loki, barely hears her confused protest.

Because then he's reaching down and taking hold of his brother's skinny wrists. Then he's lifting Loki's small hands up, and pressing them against his own face, moving them across it, across his features, his brow ridge, his eyes, his nose, his mouth, across his beard. He's letting Loki feel him.

And as the seconds drag by, gradually, gradually, a look other than mortified terror and absolute confusion emerges across Loki's own features, an expression of recognition then.

Thor doesn't even realize that the room's fallen utterly silent.

Loki is still crying, tears still spilling from unseeing eyes, face still twisted in fear.

But then his voice warbles out, shaking and scared and hopeful.

"Th… Thor?" He asks, and there's so much need there, Thor can't keep in his own sob.

He holds Loki's hands to his head and nods, pronounced so the movement is obvious, and a look of such naked relief passes over Loki's face then.

And then he's throwing himself at the older boy, his stick-like arms wrapping around Thor's thick neck, his face finding and burying hard against his shoulder, and he's trembling, shaking so hard Thor can feel it all through his own frame, and he holds Loki back, strong arms wrapped tight and protective around his little brother's fragile form.

"Thor… Thor…" Loki cries brokenly, and Thor brings a hand to the back of his head, carding fingers through sweat-soaked hair, bending his face down to press kisses to his crown.

He rocks him gently, back and forth and back again.

And Loki clings to him like his life depends on it.

Maybe it does, Thor thinks.

Maybe it's up to him to see his little brother through this.

Repentance, for allowing this to ever happen to him in the first place.

/

**AN: Well, I know that was probably a rough chapter for some of you guys, so I apologize, truly. But it had to be done. Anyway, another huge thank you to all my readers and reviewers. I appreciate you more than you know, and if you have a chance, I'd love to hear what you thought of this chapter! Thanks again!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:**

Frigga sits with Odin to her left, across the desk from Dr. Patricia Lynn.

The woman is well put together, around their same ages, classy and professional and patient.

Frigga likes her, she thinks.

Is assured by the sincerity in her eyes and voice, and she hopes… she _prays_, she will be the one able to help her son.

Her beautiful, baby boy.

Oh, God, she cannot even think of him now without near falling to hysterics.

It had been a week more after Dr. Vincent had taken her son up out of his induced coma before Loki was cleared for discharge from the hospital.

In all that time, her youngest had clung to Thor like a lifeline, not allowing his big brother out of his hold for even a moment.

It had been any time Thor tried to step away from him for even a brief period, Loki had burst into tears, whimpering and trembling violently in terror. Oh, he had been so afraid…

Was still so afraid.

It had been to the point Thor had had to take Loki into the bathroom with him whenever he needed to relieve himself.

It went without saying Loki too needed Thor there to take him to the bathroom.

And to help him bathe, and dress, and eat.

Once they had been able to show Loki that they were there as well, make him understand who they were, both she and Odin were able to do these things for him too, though Loki always, always needed Thor near by. To know that Thor was with him.

Thor has Loki at home right now, taking care of him, while she and Odin go over treatment plans at the facility they've chosen.

It hurts her heart beyond measure to see her youngest child so utterly helpless.

To see him so dependent. Easily as much so as he had been as an infant.

Destroys her for the knowledge that, behind that helplessness, lies a brilliant mind.

Something which currently they are discussing with Dr. Lynn.

"This seems as though it may be impossible." Odin is saying, frustrated and anxious as he reads over the outline of what the doctor has set up to help guide Loki through these first, few months. "How are we supposed to teach him to read brail when he cannot hear us?"

Dr. Lynn smiles at them, tight and sympathetic.

"I won't lie to you." She says slowly. "Without the ability to hear, it's going to be very much more frustrating, for him and for you, roughly three or four times more difficult, and take roughly that many times as long for Loki to learn versus if he had just simply lost his eyesight. Though, from what I understand, your son is something of a prodigy?"

She smiles again, and Frigga nods, taking the outline from Odin and scanning it over.

"Yes." She answers. "He's… he's just started the tenth grade. He's very intelligent."

"Very." Odin interjects, and the note of pride is unmistakable in his voice. "He's already been offered scholarships from all the top Universities. He could have already graduated high school, but he wanted to stay with us at home longer."

"I see." Dr. Lynn nods.

Frigga looks up at her.

"Loki is… he… he's very shy." She begins, fighting to control the emotion in her voice. "He doesn't really… really have any friends. He practically worships his older brother, Thor. Goes everywhere with him, wants to always be around him."

She doesn't mention how it was this desire to be so constantly around his big brother that led to her and Odin allowing Loki to go with Thor and his friends that night, after he'd begged them for hours to do so.

Doesn't mention how if she and Odin had just stuck to their initial decision to keep him at home, none of this would have happened.

Her baby would still be able to see… still be able to hear…

Wouldn't be lost in a world of perpetual darkness and silence.

"I understand." The doctor nods again.

"He's terrified right now." Odin interjects. "We can't… we don't think it will be a good course right now to take him outside the home if we don't have to."

"And I was just about to address that." Dr. Lynn goes on. "We can have tutors sent to your home to teach and guide your son until he feels comfortable enough with his new condition to go out in the world. It will be more expensive, but…"

"Money doesn't matter." Odin cuts in, and Dr. Lynn nods.

"Alright then. And, from what you've told me so far, given your boy's obvious intelligence, perhaps he'll learn more quickly than would normally be the case for individuals in this situation. And since he's so young…"

The doctor pauses there, and Frigga knows it's because of the tightness which has come over both hers and her husband's faces.

She can't help it though. Neither can Odin.

Loki is _so _young.

And this is so unfair.

It's so _wrong_.

For this to have happened to him…

"… It… will be easier for him to adjust, eventually, than it would be for a grown adult." She finally finishes, and Frigga nearly wants to laugh bitterly at the irony of that statement.

As if it's a good thing Loki's lost so much at such a young age. As if it is a better thing than if he'd gotten to reach adulthood with his eyes and ears intact.

"So the basis of the lesson plain rests on re-teaching him the alphabet through physical touch, and from there him learning the corresponding symbols in brail for each letter?" Odin asks, changing the subject, and Frigga feels a kind of relief for it.

She doesn't know what she would do without him.

She's spent so many nights these past weeks breaking down in his arms, privately and away from Thor, who's already dealing with so much. She hasn't wanted to expose him any more to her emotional instability, knowing he's having a hard enough time holding it together himself.

Out of all of them, he's had to spend the greatest deal of time with Loki, seen without softening the severity of his little brother's condition, and she knows it's killing him.

She knows for her husband this has and continues to be equally hard.

Odin is a stoic man. He's rarely ever shown any kind of outward emotion. Knows he keeps his feelings bottled inside, for all the horrors he's seen and experienced, having fought in more than one war in his youth.

But she knows him well as she knows herself. She knows he's hurting so terribly.

Nothing giving greater evidence of that than when, the night before last, finally, he'd allowed himself to cry with her.

She knows Odin has always had difficulty relating to Loki.

The two of them are so very different. Loki being so introverted and quiet. Shy, as she'd explained to Dr. Lynn. Some might even say wilting. He's never shown any kind of proclivity towards athletics or physical activity, never been very social, really. Always preferring to stay inside and read, or draw, or write.

And he's always been a slender, fragile child. When they'd adopted him, he'd been so painfully small, riddled with health problems, and the doctors hadn't been at all sure he would even make it to his first year. They'd considered it a kind of miracle that he had. And still, to this day, Loki falls easily to illness, more readily susceptible to colds and viruses and bacteria's.

For Odin, who's always held athletic prowess in high esteem, who loves sports and has helped to nurture and encourage Thor's own gifts for such endeavors, Loki has been a confusing child, and very often, she knows her husband simply doesn't know how to talk to their youngest, doesn't know what to say to him.

But she knows too how almost painfully proud Odin is of Loki. Recalls nights spent with her husband, where he's shared with her how truly in awe he is of his youngest son's brilliance. How he wishes he could make him understand that, if he could simply find the words to express such.

It's been hard, because Loki is such a sensitive child, so unlike Thor in how easily discouraged he can become.

Where Thor understands Odin's stiff, sometimes awkward affections, Loki too often mistakes it for indifference or even dislike, and more times than Frigga wishes to acknowledge, she's seen her youngest boy give up on something, some project or pursuit of his because he believed Odin didn't care.

Now with everything the way it is…

She tries not to dwell on it.

She knows if she does, she may give in to despair, and for Loki, for her son, she knows she cannot.

She knows, for him, she has to be strong.

And so she forces herself to focus, to listen as Dr. Lynn confirms over Odin's questions, and tells them that though it will be hard, and that, initially, Loki may even resist learning, they have a number of highly qualified psychiatrist's working for the clinic, who specialize in cases of lost sight and hearing, and helping both children and adults overcome all the mental pitfalls those particular loses entail.

It's hard.

It's so hard.

But she knows for her child, it is infinitely more so.

And so she endures it, whatever it takes to help her son.

/

Loki is clinging to him, and it seems incongruous to Thor, that such small, fragile looking hands could grip so tightly.

But somehow his little brother is managing it, skinny fingers digging almost painfully into the skin of his arm, even as he holds onto Loki's free hand with his own, giving it, he prays, a reassuring squeeze.

It's only Loki's second day back from the hospital, having taken him home last night, which mercifully he'd been able to sleep through most of.

They're in the bathroom now, and Thor knows he needs to give Loki a bath, only his brother is terrified, and no matter which way Thor tries to comfort and sooth him, nothing is seeming to work.

Stupidly, Thor keeps talking to him, reminding himself again and again, each time the words slip past his lips, that Loki can't hear him.

Only Thor isn't sure what else he can do.

It's the way he's always reassured Loki when he's been scared.

When he's come to him in the middle of the night, woken and shaking and teary eyed from some nightmare, and Thor has let him into his bed and sat up with him, telling him stories until he would fall back to sleep, safe and warm and okay.

Now he can only get down on his knees before his little brother, bending down and placing a kiss firmly atop his head, doing the same again along his cheek.

"Come on Loki." He says, and he doesn't even try to stop himself.

Maybe, he thinks, even if Loki can't hear him, he can give himself some measure of comfort by talking.

"We've got to get you cleaned up."

Loki is staring blankly ahead at nothing, and Thor can barely stand to see it.

Where once his brother's eyes were so sharply focused and heavy in their intelligence, it was at times uncomfortable even when he would lay his gaze on you, now they are vacant and lost and expresionless.

Perhaps the worst of it, Thor thinks, is that beneath that blank stare, he knows Loki's just as smart, just as aware and brilliant as he's always been.

But he can't see it anymore, the way he used to. He can't see it there in his brother's eyes.

"Whe… where are… a-are we?" Loki asks, stumbling over his words, uncertain that he's spoken them at all.

He's still speaking too loudly, like some people do when they've got earphones on and they can't hear their own voices when they talk. He's got no way to modulate, no way to measure sound anymore.

Thor feels his throat tighten, the increasingly familiar sting of tears threatening in his eyes, and he has to force the emotion down as he pulls Loki into a hug, rubbing his back before pulling back and taking him by his hands.

"Come on Loki." He says again, more for himself, as he begins to walk backwards on his knees, leading his brother forward, towards the tub.

Loki follows, clumsy and slow, putting one foot in front of the other with painful tentativeness, plainly afraid he's going to fall or crash or trip over something.

But Thor has hold of him, and he isn't going to let him go.

It must take a good 30 or 40 seconds for them to cover a few feet of space, but once they reach the bathtub, Thor guides Loki's hands to touch the edge, keeping one hand on his little brother's back, the other grasping loosely round his arm as he lets the younger boy feel and explore what he's touching.

Thor guides Loki's hands over the surface, leading him gradually to the faucet and the temperature controls, turning the water on and letting the warm spray wash over his brother's fingers.

Loki flinches back from it at first, and Thor holds on to him, shushing him softly and giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

"Th… the bathtub?" Loki stammers, and Thor nods, bringing Loki's hands to his head so he can know the confirmation.

And it doesn't take his brother long to realize Thor's intent.

For a moment, he seems apprehensive, standing stiffly, before a kind of resignation seems to wash over him, realizing it has to be done.

Thor swallows tightly at it.

He knows this is hard for Loki.

His brother is a shy kid. He's always been that way. Thor knows it's embarrassing for him to let anyone but Mom see him naked, and so he does his best to reassure that there's no reason to feel shamed about it, kissing him softly against his temple and pushing locks of his hair behind his ears, running a soothing hand across his bony shoulders and down his back.

Loki stands rigidly, his fingers curled tight in the material of Thor's shirt, staring ahead at nothing, waiting.

Thor's been helping to keep Loki clean this last week in the hospital, mostly by washing him while still in bed, just running a wet and soapy cloth down his limbs, washing his face and feet, sometimes his torso.

This'll be the first time since the accident Loki's taken a bath.

As the tub fills with warm water, Thor sets about removing his brother's clothes, warning him of it by taking the hem of his t-shirt and giving it a tug.

"O-kay." Loki breathes out shakily, lifting his arms up so Thor can pull the shirt off.

The process goes relatively quickly and smooth, and soon Thor's scooping his little brother up, carrying him towards the now filled tub.

Loki has his arms around his neck, burying his face to his shoulder, and Thor kisses the side of his head, whispering softly against the shell of his ear that it's alright.

He's careful as he lowers the younger boy into the water, but still, it startles Loki, and his arms wrap tighter about his neck, holding suddenly with all his strength, beginning to tremble.

"It's okay Loki." Thor murmurs against his ear. "It's okay."

It's an awkward, bent over angle Thor finds himself in moments later, as he's finally gotten Loki fully into the water, but his brother continues to hold onto him, shaking like a leaf, and Thor is reluctant to let him go in turn, his own arms submerged, wrapped round the tiny boy's thin torso.

"Loki…" Thor murmurs against his ear again. "It's alright."

"D-d… don't… don't let me d-drown." Loki pleads, and Thor shakes his head no against his brother's cheek, praying he understands he would never let him.

It takes several, long minutes, but eventually, Thor feels Loki's skinny arms loosen their hold round his neck, and he's able to lean back as they slip down.

He keeps his own arms around Loki, trying to convey to him that he's right there and he isn't going anywhere, staying that way until he feels the boy begin to calm some, the tremors through him not quite so pronounced.

When at last he pulls away, he puts his cupped hand against Loki's forehead, smoothing it back through his hair, bending down once more to kiss him against the temple.

There are tears running from his little brother's eyes, but they come silently.

Thor doesn't know what to do other than dip the washcloth into the water and bring it back up to wipe them from Loki's pale face.

The room falls into silence then, save the soft noises of the cloth coming back up out of the water, dripping gently as Thor runs it along Loki's skin, down his neck, his shoulders, chest and arms.

The tears continue is a steady stream from his brother's sightless eyes.

It's as Thor is beginning to work shampoo through the boy's hair he hears Loki stammer out in a voice so soft, he nearly misses it.

"I'm s-sorry." He says.

Thor's hands pause, and for a moment, he's frozen, unsure of what he's just heard.

He stares down at his brother, Loki's face turned downward, away from him.

"I'm sorry." He repeats, voice trembling.

No, Thor thinks.

No, no, no… that… that isn't right.

That isn't…

God, this isn't Loki's _fault_.

How could he… _why _would he think that?!

He panics a moment, trying to think, frantically, helplessly how to make Loki understand that no, _no, this isn't his fault._

All he can come up with is to again fall forward and wrap his arms round the little body, pulling his brother to his chest, squeezing tight.

Rocking him gently as Loki lays limp and silent against him.

/

**AN: Again, huge thank you to everyone who's reading and reviewed this story. I hope you continue to like it, and let me know what you think if you get a chance!**


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